


Not broke but I'm hoping

by comeoutcomeout



Category: X Factor (UK) RPF, X Factor RPF
Genre: Bondage, Consensual Kink, Denial, Dom/sub, Facials, M/M, Masturbation, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comeoutcomeout/pseuds/comeoutcomeout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here be dom!Aiden, for a nice change :) Sort of 'first time'-kinky, set within an established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not broke but I'm hoping

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t own, not profiting, no harm or offence intended. Also: very, very fictional. Title is from 'Picture of You' by Seven Summers.

It makes a nice break from the constant slew of Premier Inns, always nestled in the noisiest parts of industrial districts.

The boys have a few days off from tour between Manchester and Brighton, so it was basically a given that they would end up at Aiden’s home in Blackpool to enjoy some home-cooked food, fresh air, a bit of Guitar Hero and something resembling privacy and personal space.

After a couple evenings catching up on all the life-of-a-pop-star goss, the Taplins made themselves scarce for a whole night, to give the boys a real chance to unwind.

They’re on the sofa in the tastefully decorated living room, looking about as tasteless as two young men who’ve been drinking too much and sleeping too little for over a month now _will_ look. Matt’s got his feet up on the coffee table, big toes starting to poke through threadbare socks, and Aiden’s next to him curled up and thumbing through the latest NME.

Matt reaches for the TV remote on the table and lands on a _Come Dine With Me_ marathon. He hears Aiden mumble something that sounds like “Monday”, which it is, Matt supposes, although time has become a bit of a hazy concept since the tour started.  
“What?”  
“Games night,” Aiden says, clearer, punctuated by a press of the stand-by button on the remote he’s now pinched from Matt.  
Matt tries to look affronted, but it dissolves quickly into laughter. “Aid, how old are you?”  
Aiden drops his magazine and crawls up the sofa to Matt, straddling his lap. “Old enough to make my own contribution to family traditions,” he grins.  
Matt blushes. “Is what you have in mind even remotely family-friendly?” He stretches up and kisses Aiden, biting lightly on the boy’s soft bottom lip.  
“Unlikely,” Aiden concedes, speaking directly into Matt’s mouth before he deepens the kiss.

~

Upstairs in Aiden’s room, Matt is sat on the double bed, leaning against the wrought iron headboard, stripped down to a skate t-shirt and plaid boxers. Aiden is across the room in baggy sweatpants and an open oversized cardigan; no shirt underneath. Matt realises he doesn’t get to observe Aiden’s body all that often any more - it’s either a rushed costume change or they’re pressed too close together in the darkness of a hotel room or tour bus - so he makes a conscious effort now. He reacquaints himself with the broad shoulders, always held a little high with tension. The few stray wisps of dark chest hair. The little birth mark like a tea stain over Aiden’s fifth rib.

Aiden notices Matt staring and looks down at the carpet. His fringe falls over his face.

“Baby, no,” Matt says quietly. Aiden gets the meaning, runs a hand through his hair, and then looks up. Matt’s expression lays adoration all over Aiden, and Aiden slips his sweats down to the floor. He’s half hard inside his pants, and when Matt notices he can’t help but wonder immediately what’s going on in the younger man’s mind right now. The possibilities lead his own cock to follow suit.

Behind Aiden, nailed to the back of the closed bedroom door, is a tie rack arranged with more scarves than Matt has ever seen.

They form an ostentatious array of mismatched patterns, colours and lengths, and Matt fails to suppress a giggle. “You can take the lad out of Blackpool, eh...?” he mocks.  
Aiden turns around and pulls a few long, thin, satin scarves from one end of the rack. “Well, when in Rome, Cardle,” he teases, and Matt has no idea what Aiden’s even really implying, but it doesn’t stop him from shivering.

Aiden lands on the bed in a tangle of material. “Lose this,” he tells Matt, but more as an afterthought, as he’s already lifted the older man’s t-shirt half off.

Matt shifts against the bed head, trying to settle his vertebrae back in against the rolling iron bars. “I should have known you’d be the type,” he muses once the pieces start clicking into place.

It’s funny how well Aiden can read Matt; know Matt. It doesn’t come so easily for Matt, which might be why he’s almost 28 and only on ‘serious relationship number two’, but the way Aiden knows what he wants for himself and goes out and gets it fits together nicely with the way Matt likes to ride through life on the wave of the moment; a transient refrain of music, or a rail down a six stair set, or some summer sun and a fat joint.

Matt wraps his arms around Aiden’s body and kisses the boy, cards his fingers through the overgrown quiff, because even though Matt’s always been ultimately submissive, he finds going down fighting cathartic for his male ego.

When Aiden’s lips burn hot from stubble, he coaxes one of Matt’s arms off and draws it out along the horizontal length of the headboard. Matt gets goosebumps from the cold metal. Aiden untangles a scarf and binds one end around Matt’s slender wrist and an iron bar, tying it off with a bow. The camp flourish endears Aiden to Matt more than Matt would’ve ever thought possible.

The scarf is long, so Aiden spirals it around Matt’s arm and the bar all the way up to Matt’s shoulder, and does the same with a new scarf on the other side. They meet in the hollow at the nape of Matt’s neck and Aiden knots the loose ends together.

For a few still seconds, Matt is acutely aware of one last scarf lying beside them on the bed, unused.

“Feel alright?” Aiden asks as he’s hooking a finger under a couple of the scarf loops, checking they’re secure but not so tight as to curtail circulation.  
Matt’s reply comes with a grin, so Aiden knows he’s joking. “Not even remotely.”  
“The safe word is, um...Lucozade,” Aiden says, serious, a little awkwardly.  
“Safe w-... What?!”  
“My house, my rules. Slag,” Aiden adds with an impish glare.  
Matt inhales and realises he could get accustomed to this fierce, dominant side of Aiden pretty easily. He feels the arousal deep in his gut.

“Do you want to close your eyes?” Aiden asks.  
“No.”  
“I could blindfold you...?”  
“Aiden,” Matt warns, before his expression softens.  
“Sorry,” Aiden whispers against Matt’s lips, before he kisses him and then sits back. “Are we… Is this cool?” The phrasing is desperately ineloquent, immature, but it’s all Aiden’s nervous brain gives him to work with. He knew it would happen sooner or later, but it’s still frightening to be opening up to Matt quite this much, this intimately. It’s a good kind of fear, though; the kind that makes Aiden’s skin buzz with hypersensitivity.  
Matt smiles and says, “Yeah.”  
Aiden leans in and kisses him again; deeper, longer, hoping to distract him from the hand rummaging around in a bedside table drawer.

When Aiden sits up straight again, still kissing Matt, he has one hand slightly behind his back. Matt feels the twist in Aiden’s body and pulls his head away to ask “What is it?” with a bit of a worried look.  
Aiden repeats himself. “Are we cool?”  
“I wouldn’t be tied to your bed if I didn’t like it, if that’s what you’re asking.” Matt fidgets against the restraints and it turns Aiden on.  
From behind him, Aiden slowly reveals a smooth, slender, purple vibrator.  
Matt’s eyes go very wide and all he manages to express at first is a drawn out “Dude...!” He feels his cock twitch, betraying his curiosity and the thoughts racing through his mind: _What is he planning? Has he used that with others? Has he used it on himself; in himself? Was he thinking of me?_ He gives over and moans, and Aiden tugs the waistband of Matt’s boxers down, runs his free thumb and forefinger teasingly up and down the hot shaft, grinning.

Aiden continues to rub, watching as Matt’s eyes cycle between gently shut and open wide, varying his pressure to draw out more beautiful noise from Matt’s throat. He calls Matt a “slut”, the consonants spilling lasciviously from his pink mouth, and Matt desperately wants to pin Aiden to the bed; bares his teeth in a little snarl when his bindings refuse to give.

Aiden is kneeling astride one of Matt’s legs, and he shifts to settle the bump of Matt’s knee between his arse cheeks, grinding lightly on it through his pants in time with the strokes. Matt sweats.  
“Look at yourself,” Aiden hisses, his sparkling stare burning holes, and Matt’s chest lurches forward, he groans out “ugh, fuck” and swallows thickly.

Aiden stops when he feels a bead of pre-come roll off the head, and Matt whimpers at the loss.

Aiden arches down and licks once across the tip of Matt’s cock, then ghosts his warm cheek down and back up the side. His fallen hair tickles the sensitive skin stretched over Matt’s hipbone and Matt shakes involuntarily; he already wants to come.

“Christ, Aiden,” Matt whines, “you need to touch me.”  
“And you need to shut up.” Aiden doesn't spit the words out as much as he probably could. He's conscious of the fact this is all a bit new, and he supposes Matt could burst out laughing at any moment. And he wants Matt to remember it's only play, and that he'll make it worth Matt's while in the end. Worth both their whiles.  
His cock aches in protest, but Matt duly pipes down.

Aiden picks up the last scarf and makes a clove hitch. (Matt had been a Scout, so he recognises the knot, though he suspects Aiden didn't learn _this_ from any Den Mother...) He slips the two loops over the smooth head and shimmies them halfway down Matt's cock. The rubbing satin feels scorching to Matt. He regards Aiden's deft fingers as if they're alien; this incredible, impossible boy offering him what he never really knew he wanted quite so much.

For now, Aiden leaves the loose ends trailing down Matt's inner thigh like a promise.

Every part of Matt that _can_ react, does. His balls feel heavy on the duvet. The nerves in the ring of his anus spark. His nipples stand out hard from his pale chest; Aiden ducks his head and circles briefly, teasingly, around each in turn with his tongue, listening to the way the air sounds coming sharply out of Matt’s nose.

When Aiden sits back on his haunches, he sees Matt's whole body overcome by goosebumps, despite the warmth in the room. He senses Matt is on the borderline now, pleasure starting to transgress into pain. His eyes are so dark, so hungry, they almost frighten Aiden. But the face around them is still Matt, his gorgeous Matt, biting his lip hard as if it'll make some difference while his slim hips try to fuck the stupid scarf that Aiden has left hitched there possessively.

Aiden pushes firmly on Matt's chest with a hand to still him. “Watch,” he says, slips his pants off and takes a confident hold of his own cock.  
“Oh, you absolute bastard.”

~

Aiden’s face is red all over and he’s jerking himself like only a teenager can. His hair is stuck down, damp, where it frames his face. Rising to his knees, he grabs onto Matt at the back of the head, so Matt can’t turn away. Matt tries briefly to close his eyes, but the heightened sounds and smell and radiating heat are all more intoxicating than looking ever was. His arms fight furiously against the scarves tying him down, and there are tears in his eyes from the exquisite pain in his cock; harder, he’s quite certain, than it’s ever been. Matt’s panting just as hard as Aiden, as if the orgasm will be his own. His hips circle and writhe, trying to press down into the mattress for any kind of contact on needy skin.

“Fuck you,” Matt grinds out desperately against Aiden’s torso, then again with more conviction. “Fuck you, Aiden.”  
“You... You know the word,” Aiden gasp, close.  
Of course Matt does. But the fact that he would stay silent was never really in doubt.  
Suddenly, Aiden yells so loud that Matt jolts, and then Matt can feel the hot come landing on his chest.

Low and husky, Aiden eventually says “I should clean that up.”  
Matt’s head falls back and he moans. He feels dry, swollen lips pressing against his chest; Aiden licking up his own come. Matt’s fairly convinced he might actually die tonight. “Kiss me,” he croaks.  
And Aiden does. Hesitant at first, like he thinks Matt will change his mind. Or like Matt might break. But Matt kisses back ferociously, tasting Aiden, sweet like Red Bull and bitter like sin, desperate for the physical intimacy his restraints are denying him.

“This is insane,” Matt breathes when they separate. He means it in the best possible way.

“You love it filthy.” The sharp control has returned to Aiden’s voice and gaze. “You’re sick.”  
Matt feels a vaguely erotic chill of shame run down his spine. “Don’t say that,” he mumbles.  
“You are, though. Proper slut. Even by your own admission.”  
“Aiden.”  
“Snogging me for a taste of me? Sick, you fucker.”  
Then there is gravity in Matt’s voice. “Stop.”

Aiden does, even though he thinks he shouldn’t; that isn’t really how the rules work. But there’s a fine line with words like these sometimes, and Aiden’s been stomping all over it. Fingertips wander serpentine over Matt’s damp chest, and Matt knows it means 'sorry'. (Matt also knows how much Aiden hates it when he calls him ‘only nineteen’, and figures this is probably a bit what it feels like in reverse. Life’s lessons learnt in the strangest ways.)

~

Aiden picks up on a ripple of nervous, needy energy, penetrating his post-orgasm haze, and reaches to wrap a practised hand around the base of Matt’s cock. Matt keens and Aiden gives a slack smile. All is forgiven; they’re okay.

Leaning in to bite Matt’s lip, the hand travels up, an open palm now drawing circles on the head. Matt’s lashes cast prison cell shadows as his eyes close and his head lolls.

This is how Aiden perhaps loves Matt the most. So on edge that his body has to give up almost entirely just to cope. Ultimate submission. It hurts in Aiden’s chest to want someone this much; to need them so completely. He thought he’d pretty much mastered independence at quite a young age, after his dad went. Though he supposes he probably thought a lot of thing about himself before Matt rolled in and took over every waking thought, every blue dream. Sometimes Aiden just knows he is far, far less in control than he will ever let on.

He takes the quiet moment to fish carefully behind him and retrieve the slender vibrator. Matt snaps to when he feels the cold plastic come to rest flush against his hard on, Aiden holding it parallel there with one hand and spindling an end of the hitched scarf with the other.  
“I love you,” Matt says simply, and it carries the weight of ‘I’m okay, this is okay, but don’t ask me out loud, I might not be willing to admit it.’  
Aiden can feel hot blood prickling in his cheeks, and busies himself with wrapping the scarf end around and around Matt’s cock and the vibrator in one. The knot pinches a little around the shaft and Matt groans, breathes heavier.

Aiden takes a second to admire his handiwork, Matt and the toy splinted together, and leans over to plant a light kiss beneath Matt’s ear. Matt takes the opportunity to remind Aiden he’s still hungry to come, tipping his head to nip at Aiden’s throat, catching the pulse point, eliciting an “ohh” and a little shiver from the boy.

Aiden licks across the clavicle, kisses down the sternum, and drags two short fingernails all the way down Matt’s right side, pausing to etch the last few letters of the Latin proverb that creeps in dark ink around Matt’s waist. He runs the pads of his thumbs down the tops of thighs and back up the insides, traces all around the grooves of the pelvis, swears he can feel the trail of fire he’s leaving just under Matt’s skin.

Matt breathes, purrs, whimpers. Aiden gets hard, again.

Aiden lowers himself to exhale warm air on Matt’s scrotum.  
“Oh my god,” Aiden hears from the top of the bed, half sighed, half whined, the prettiest noise he’s heard in a long time. He darts his tongue out, finding a line to lick up over short brown hair, just to the base of Matt’s cock. A litany tumbles from Matt’s mouth, but Aiden can’t make it out. He mouths Matt’s balls again and feels hips twitch sporadically against his face, hears the wrought iron of the bed frame creaking as Matt fights the scarves for all they’re worth.  
“Aiden, do it! Stop! Fucking go!” Matt’s almost actually terrified that something might break; he needs to come so bad, come so hard, that he’s already seeing stars behind his eyes. His toes curl. His demands don’t make sense, but the desperation is crystal clear.

“Shh,” Aiden coos as he sits upright.  
“Fuck off,” Matt snaps back, temper momentarily unchecked, and maybe it’s _this_ Matt that Aiden loves most. The barking dog tied down in the thunderstorm. Matt tries again, says “please” with a growling tone that makes the word anything but innocuous, really.

Aiden presses his palms to Matt’s thighs for a moment. Checking the dog won’t bite. Then he supports Matt’s cock loosely with one hand, while the other reaches to the bottom of the vibrator and twists it ever so slightly.

The buzz starts.

Matt feels it immediately, way too intensely after all the denial. “Shit!” he blurts out. “No! Lu-... Lucozade!”  
Aiden grips the toy tightly to absorb as much of the vibration as possible, and quickly switches it off.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Matt repeats on every rapid breath. He’s trembling. Aiden holds his shoulder gently.  
“Tell me what you need. Matt, listen to me.” Aiden’s voice is soothing, the way some of his consonants coalesce. He can see that Matt’s eyes are a little unfocused.  
“Just... A moment. Just a moment.” Matt calms himself gradually. “Too much,” he offers by way of explanation.  
“You’re doing fine, Matt,” Aiden reassures him, smiles. “You’re beautiful. I love you.”

He sees tears in Matt’s eyes and he knows it’s only an involuntary bodily response, just from the intensity of everything, but it still makes him feel... Well, it would probably make him feel a bit guilty, if it wasn’t making him so crazy turned on. He smears an escaping drop away across Matt’s cheekbone and Matt smiles, shakily, but it’s there. Not the lopsided grin the cameras see, but an even one that comes so easily when it’s for Aiden.

Matt’s still hard, but he feels less like his need to get off is going to give him a heart attack now. “I’m good,” he says, and then with a slightly nervous chuckle, “do your worst.”

It’s probably _this_ Matt that Aiden loves the most, if he’s honest. The Matt who trusts. Trusts Aiden. Who still trusts so completely, even after he’s been halfway to unconscious and halfway to violent rage, all at the small hands of Aiden Grimshaw.

Aiden kisses Matt again, just cos he can’t not, and twists the vibrator back on low.  
Matt groans from deep in his throat. His hips start to move. “M-more,” he stutters.  
Aiden turns the dial up and supports Matt’s cock in the cradle of one hand. Matt’s body is slick with sweat, his eyes closed tight, and Aiden knows he couldn’t open them again right now even if he wanted to; all of him too intently focussed on the desperate need to come, and whether this one form of contact will be enough to get him over the edge before it drives him crazy in the process.  
“You look fucking beautiful,” Aiden tells him and he sounds like a wolf.  
Matt groans louder, pants quicker.  
“I’m touching myself, Matt. Fuck, Matt, you’re so hot.”  
Matt still can’t bring himself to look, but he listens to Aiden moaning, loud, forgetting his place, and can picture it all in his mind’s eye.  
“Aiden, I have to come,” Matt chokes out. “I can’t come. I have to--.” He’s delirious with want.

The whole neighbourhood surely hears Aiden cry out when he comes a second time, vision a white-out, spilling over the sharp point of Matt’s hip bone and his own hand. He collapses chest to knees, spent between Matt’s legs.

His face hangs dangerously close to Matt’s cock.

Matt feels the hair of Aiden’s fringe falling again on his abdomen. It tickles, and it’s enough. “Aiden, move.” He can tell the boy doesn’t. He wrenches his eyes open. Aiden stays crouched there, just breathing hard. Matt pulls against his arm restraints with all his might. He tries to kick his legs, but Aiden quietly shifts his body weight and pins them back down. The vibrator buzzes. “Fuck, I’m gonna-- Aid, I’m-- Move, Aiden!”

Aiden’s voice is little more than a hoarse whisper, and it’s a wonder it's audible at all. But there it is. “Come for me.”

Matt shuts his eyes and obeys.

_Aiden catches the first spurt hard across his flushed cheek, the second and third on his lips that hang open. Matt’s come is like Matt’s everything else, mercury-heavy but without the ability to leave a physical imprint. Only a mark more intangible, that gets in and draws your breath when you don’t mean to, induces your smile, hurts your chest. Matt always just seeps, the way the voided curve of his neck finds the spur of Aiden shoulder to lay over, or his belly fills the hollow below Aiden’s ribs perfectly. Matt infuses, through Aiden’s skin or down into his lungs, there before you know it, beautiful but dangerous._

_Aiden licks around his mouth, consumes Matt, snatches him inside; conscious of the choice._

~

The vibrator falls easily out of its binding as soon as Matt’s cock begins to soften. Aiden pulls the bows on the scarves at Matt’s wrists as quickly as he remembers, and the spirals begin to unravel. Matt unravels with them. Aiden shuffles up the bed and holds Matt protectively around the waist. Neither feels the need - or ability - to say much.

“That was...” Matt tries, still slumped, but Aiden’s face smells like Tea Tree wipes and it’s keeping him alert. He realises he has no recollection of Aiden cleaning himself off. He wonders if he should apologise. Then the fog begins to clear around the memory and he starts to understand that Aiden did _that_ bit just for himself. “Fuck,” he concludes.

More sated silence, and Aiden just stays holding on.

“How did you... Why did you try that; all that? How did you know...with me?” He stumbles over all the words, but Matt has to ask. Has to hear which unguarded moment gave him away so easily.  
“Matt, it’s in everything,” Aiden tells him, overwhelmed.  
“Nah,” Matt whispers, but it’s a hopeless denial.  
“Every song you’ve ever written, Matt,” Aiden goes on. “Hell, most the ones you’ve ever picked to cover! All of what you listen to... What’s your favourite song?” Aiden bring a finger to Matt’s lips that says ‘don’t tell me, of course I know, just think about it.’ And a familiar guitar melody floats into Matt’s head, and then Dave Matthews’ voice, and Aiden sees the exact moment Matt gets to the second lyric and it all clicks into place. Sees the cobalt blue irises pull focus as Matt looks up, slightly stunned, knowing Aiden’s right.

Matt doesn’t know what to say. “You’re a bit creepy, Griminal,” he offers eventually.

They both grin, too wide for either of their faces, and Matt nuzzles into Aiden’s neck and Aiden squeezes his fingers a little firmer into Matt’s side.  
“I hope you don’t involve _all_ your houseguests in this ‘Games Night’ tradition,” Matt queries, and Aiden laughs for about a minute.

~

“Nice night, boys?” Joanna asks when they surface late the next morning.  
Matt goes with a simple “yeah, thanks,” hoping there aren’t too many secrets spelt out all over his face.  
“We played Trivial Pursuit!” Aiden lies, proud like a child trying to impress.  
“ _You’re_ a trivial pursuit,” Matt jokes under his breath before he can stop himself.  
Aiden gives him a quick look of mock hurt, but it dissolves just as promptly into a giggle. “Pursue _this_.”  
And Matt watches Aiden slap his arse as he turns towards the fridge, and Matt closes his eyes, embarrassed for the both of them, and for Joanna over by the hob, and little Libby in her highchair, and Aiden’s stepdad milling in the doorway, and probably the whole damn world.

He will, though. Pursue it. The two of them together, all of this. Follow it to the ends of the Earth.

He’d do anything Aiden told him to.

**Author's Note:**

> It's nice to see the hitcount go up, but please please also consider leaving a comment or kudos...? Warm my heart :) Concrit also welcome.


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